Morning in Chicago
by Rosepixie
Summary: A series of very short stories about characters from The Dresden Files in the morning. There is very little plot, but it is safe to assume that the stories all take place on the same morning, so small connections may become evident. I have no current plans to expand any of these, but may continue to add more of them over time.
1. Harry Dresden

Harry groaned as he slipped painfully into wakefulness. He was lying face-down on his bed (at least, he hoped it was his bed) and everything hurt. He felt like every inch of his skin was covered in bruises. He had apparently fallen asleep with his left arm twisted under his torso and now it ached badly.

With another loud groan, Harry pushed himself over onto his back. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing last night - jeans, a t-shirt, even his shoes and his heavy leather duster. He let himself simply lay there for a moment, not yet ready to really move.

Mister objected, though, and butted his head hard against the leg that Harry had let dangle over the side of the bed. He wanted breakfast and didn't much care how sore Harry was feeling.

"Ok, ok," Harry mumbled as he pushed himself up off the bed. He shrugged out of his duster and dropped it on the rumpled comforter. As he headed out to the kitchen alcove of his apartment, he rubbed his left hand, trying to get blood flowing properly to it again. In the process, he discovered that his awkward sleeping position had pressed his shield bracelet so hard into his wrist that it was now sporting a series of distinct shield-shaped impressions in the skin.

He poured cat food into a dish for Mister and then headed to the bathroom. As he made his way across the tiny apartment, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it randomly behind him. Once he'd gotten the shower water running (not that it would warm up much), he peeled out of his jeans and boxers and left them in a pool on the floor.

The bruising, which covered most of his torso and much of the length his limbs as well, didn't look half as bad as he feared it would. Small favors. He peed into the toilet and then stepped into the not quite freezing cold water.

Last night had been rough, but at least he had some new pieces of information to work with. Shower, dress, and then to the basement to consult with Bob and get back to work.


	2. Karrin Murphy

Karrin Murphy reached across the bed to the small table on the other side and silenced the shrieking alarm clock. With a sigh, she let herself collapse onto the pillows for a moment.

Yesterday had been quiet and peaceful right up until the end of the day, when a messenger arrived to deliver a "request" (the kind that couldn't be ignored) asking that she pay a visit to the Assistant District Attorney's office today. There were a number of cases that he could be wanting to discuss and the fact that he had failed to include that information in his message made Murphy angry. She knew that she should be used to these stupid little power plays by now, but the sheer rudeness and childishness of it infuriated her.

Murphy climbed grumpily out of her bed and stalked across the room grumbling about having to dress up for the meeting when she didn't want to go at all. She threw open the closet and dug around for one of her nicer pantsuits. After dumping the suit and a blouse unceremoniously on the bed, she went over to the dresser and dug out clean panties, a bra, and socks. All of the clothing was dropped into the heap on the bed and Murphy stomped off to the bathroom.

With violent movements fueled by anger that she knew would have to be hidden soon, Karrin showered and brushed her teeth and dried her hair. She calmed down enough to put a tiny bit of highlight around her eyes and to dab on some lip gloss before returning to her bedroom.

She dropped her robe onto a chair and her sleepwear into the hamper before dressing in the outfit she had previously dumped on the bed.

Karrin Murphy wished for coffee as she headed downstairs to collect her things and head out.


	3. Bob

It was dark in the basement lab, despite the fact that the sun had been up for well over an hour, but darkness wasn't a problem for Bob. His eyes glowed red out of the eyeholes of the skull. The light passed over the open pages of a well-worn paperback book.

Harry kept Bob supplied with risque novels and lingerie catalogues. This morning, Bob was enjoying his latest favorite. Most of the novels were modern stories - sexy coeds and horny interns. This latest was different, though. Harry had found it in a dumpster on some job and brought it home. Unlike his modern novels, this one was a particularly salacious yarn about a pretty young Victorian maid working in the home of a handsome Duke. Maybe he should get Harry to bring him more historical romances like this. Petticoats added a fun spice.

Just as Bob was getting to his favorite part (where the maid was turned over the Duke's knee with those enticing petticoats about to be flipped up), Harry chose to open the trapdoor and start down to the lab.

"Bob," the wizard called loudly. "I need your help."

Bob sighed, but turned his attention to the dripping wizard, clearly fresh from the shower.

"You know, your timing is terrible."

"Bigger problems, Bob," snapped Harry. "Tell me about fairy rings."

Bob groaned.

"Not again. What is it going to take for you to stop meddling with fairies?"

"Bob," Harry said tiredly. "Just tell me about the rings."

"Alright, alright. Fairy rings . . ."


End file.
